A Little Fall Of Rain
by thegirlinchargeofthewords
Summary: They'll fall in love, but will they tell? We all know how stubborn those two can be. Enjolras/Eponine -with some dark themes(abuse, rape, etc.) in only the first chapter-
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, this is my first Les Mis fiction. I have seen both, stage and film versions, and have always had little stories thought up, but never acted on them. The latest version finally pushed me to my limit; I set my quill to parchment . . . or rather my fingers to keys. I hope you enjoy!_

**I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN LES MIS OR IT'S CHARACTERS.**

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Chapter 1

He watched the "man" in the corner of the room. Enjolras, Marius, and Gavroche seemed to be the only ones that knew this was truly Éponine Thénardier. Of course, Enjolras wasn't supposed to know, but he thought it obvious that it was her. How the others couldn't see, was beyond him. She was obviously such a beauty . . .

The revolutionists sat around drinking, playing cards, discussing politics, but she sat on the ground talking to Gavroche. A smile played at her lips as she tousled his hair. Enjolras smiled as he watched the two talked. She obviously cared for Gavroche. He was glad. The boy didn't seem to have anyone. His time was spent on the streets or in the café. And he was glad for Éponine . . . she didn't have anyone either. Marius was a sick example of a friend.

Enjolras pulled a loaf of bread from his bag, and a bottle of wine. He approached the two and crouched in front of them.

"Hello, 'Roche." He held out the bread.

"Monsieur, what—"

"You've got to share with Mademoiselle Éponine here." Enjolras saw her eyes grow wide as saucers. "And here; some wine. Mademoiselle gets to control this, Gavroche. We don't want you turning into Grantaire."

Enjolras smiled and winked at the young boy.

"Merci, Enjolras, merci!"

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?"

She nodded quietly.

Enjolras nodded with a smile and joined a nearby conversation, eager to listen to Gavroche and Éponine's conversation.

As Gavroche started to rip the loaf in half, Éponine grabbed his hand, shaking her head softly. "'Roche, you keep it. Maman will feed me."

"'Ponine . . ."

"I have to go, Gavroche."

And she was gone.

* * *

Upon entering the Inn she noticed Montparnasse laid across the table drunk.

"Where you been at?" her mother snapped. "Your fiancé was worried sick. Drunk 'imself to sleep, 'e did! Wake him up and put 'em in your bed."

Éponine complied for the simple fact her father was with her mother. Now was not a time for her to get a beating. Silently, she shook Montparnasse awake. Grumbling and placing nearly all of his weight on her, Montparnasse walked with Éponine. In the back, there was a small, worn, and dirty cot. She dumped him there.

"'Ponine," he whined. "A man has needs."

She didn't move. She wouldn't touch him. He was a drunk and a slob. There was no way she would touch him. When Montparnasse's eyes shot open, she took a step back, suddenly scared. He stood with his black eyes full of hate. As he stepped towards her, she made a run for it.

He caught her in an alley and beat her. Compared to other beatings she'd had, it was nothing. The skin around her right eye was black and blue, and she had a cut on her arm. What bothered her most was the small bruised on both of her wrists from where he had held her still, restraining her arms so she couldn't fight as he claimed the last pure scrap of Éponine's life. Afterwards, he stood and left her, cold and bleeding in the alley. She knew very well that if she tried she could charm her way into some man's home, but she couldn't find it within herself. She would sit in the alley as rain poured down on her, and be happy if she died. But no . . . Gavroche needed her; she promised to never leave him. Regardless, she couldn't move any further than to lean against the stone wall.

Vaguely she heard a choked sob in the alley . . . No, she realized, it was her own sob that she heard. Would Marius look for her? She knew Mama and Papa would never look for her . . . Azelma maybe . . . And Gavroche would certainly if he knew. But her main concern was Marius . . . Would he look for her? Her mind shouted, "_No!_" and she knew that it was true. Marius did not love her. She only wished for him to love her. A wish she knew would never be fulfilled by Monsier Pontmercy.

A wish she knew would never be fulfilled by anyone.

He heard saw the woman curled into a ball before anything else. "Mademoiselle?" he shouted over the sound of the rain. "Mademoiselle, are you alright?"

Upon his light touch on her shoulder, her head sprung up and she recoiled in fear.

"Éponine," Enjolras gasped. "Oh my lord."

"I tried—tried to get away, I couldn't fight him . . ." Her eyes fluttered shut as all consciousness left her.

Enjolras picked her up gently, and quickly made his way to his flat. His home wasn't very far from the ABC Café.

Lucky for them both; it was close.

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_I love anything you give me! Just please, no flames! _

_I cannot thank you enough for reading!_

_xoxo_

**_thegirlinchargeofthewords_**


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello! I already have the second chapter up. I would like to thank the people that have already reviewed, followed, and/or favorited my little story here! A couple of you were worried I'd forget Eponine is Gavroche's sister, but I remembered. I have it right in here. _

**I DO NOT OWN LES MIS OR IT'S CHARACTERS**

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Chapter 2

Éponine was warm. Her whole body felt _warm_.

_Warm._

She had never been warm in her life.

Her eyes sprung open as fear struck her. Where was she? She wasn't in the alley anymore. She was in a warm bed with blankets pulled around her.

"Éponine, it's alright. You are safe now. You are in my house." She recognized Enjolras' voice instantly. She had, after all listened to many of his political lectures, his voice reaching into her soul. Now he sat by her bed with a book in his hands.

"Monsieur Enjolras, why am I in your home?"

"I found you in an alley. What happened to you, Éponine?"

She swallowed quickly and shook her head, tears ready to fall. "Nothing, Monsieur."

"I know you are lying; it's obvious . . . I only wish to help you."

"I was beaten," she said dryly.

"I've noticed," he responded dryly. He did have to say he rather enjoyed her sass.

"When do you want me gone?" Her brown eyes were brimming with tears of embarrassment and shame. She wished she didn't have to be in this position, and she also didn't want to leave Enjolras' home . . . specifically this warm and cozy bed.

He recoiled as if she had slapped him. "There is no deadline, Mademoiselle. You are to stay until you wish to leave."

"I am not a charity case, Monsieur Enjolras."

"Which is why you'll be working for me."

"Huh?"

"From all of your sarcastic remarks at my meetings," he laughed at her sweet blush, "I realized how stubborn you are. Also, I've noticed you don't like people giving you things. I could give the bread to Gavroche, but you would take none. I gave the wine to you, but you instantly handed it off to 'Roche. So if you work for me, I'm giving you nothing. I'm paying you what is owed."

"What . . . What would you like me to do?"

"Keep the house clean."

Éponine burst into laughter as Enjolras slightly blushed. It was true, he wasn't the best housekeeper. He always had something to consume his time; cleaning seemed less important than anything else.

"Keep the 'ouse clean? Keep the house clean?" More laughter. "I thought, oh, Monsieur, I thought you wanted me to do _something else_!"

Instantly picking up on why she was laughing and what she meant, he bristled. "Mademoiselle, I would not hold such over your head, and if you truly believe I would, I have portrayed myself as a swine in your presence!"

"It ain't . . . excuse me . . . it _isn't_ you, Monsieur. I never believed you showed yourself as a pig." In fact, she thought she was a gentleman. He was the most handsome and kind man she'd met in her nineteen years. Even more so than Marius.

"Men haven't treated you well, have they?"

She shook her head. "No. Papa . . . he never treated any of us well."

"Us?"

"My three brothers and one sister. There's me, Azelma, two that they sold only a month after they were born, and of course, Gavroche."

"Gavroche is your brother?" Now the two being together at every meeting made sense to him. It wasn't some odd friendship developed by living in a bad part of town. They were brother and sister; they loved each other and she was taking care of him.

"He left as soon as he could walk and talk," she whispered. "I was so worried. He was so little."

"I can imagine you would be . . . I would be."

Her dark brows pinched together. "You worry very much, Monsieur."

"He's done well for himself, Éponine."

"I know. I'm proud of him for sticking up for 'imself." A tear dripped down her face.

"'Ponine, you can tell me."

"Any man that came to the Inn was a slob and ready to fight and lay anything with a heartbeat . . . and—"

"And what? Who else hurt you, Éponine?"

"Maman and Papa decided to sell me to Leon Montparnasse . . . he is my fiancé . . ." A sob wracked through her thin body. "He had never hurt me until tonight. The beating I could take. But he took something I can never get back. It was all I had left."

"What did he take from you, Éponine? I can get it back for you."

"No, Monsieur, you can't." She turned red with embarrassment and sorrow.

"Éponine, tell me now."

"Monsieur, before this night I was pure."

Shock had hit him like a ton of bricks. "Oh, Éponine," he sighed. Then anger overtook him. "I—"

"Monsieur, do not be angry. I am but a street rat."

"I don't care if you're the Queen of England or from the gallows, what he did to you is wrong!"

She placed a soft, quavering hand on his cheek, "Please, Monsieur, do not fret, I shall live. I shall live."

He closed his eyes and forced a deep breath. Comforting her had turned into her comforting him. "Éponine, I am sorry. I—"

"Monsieur Enjolras, I have a request . . ."

"Anything." He had said it before he thought about it. Yes, he enjoyed this girl's company, but still, there are things he would rather he would not perform.

"I do not wish for anyone to know why I am here."

"I believe I can keep a secret."

"Also—"

"There's more?" he asked, lightening the mood.

"I'm hungry."

"I think we can fix that." With a smile, he stood and extended his hand for her to take. He was glad she wanted food, she was much too tiny for it to be healthy.

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_I try very hard to update, but sometimes trying isn't enough. The only reason I have these up so quickly is because I've been on break. Monday I return to hell. Then practices start for the musical (where I am costumes and in the ensemble), and we have Theatre Fest. If I have time at Fest I'll type something up on my phone or my kindle and get it to you. Also I have other stories I'm working on. _

_I'm trying!_

_And thank you all for all you do! You make me happy!_

_xoxo_

**_thegirlinchargeofthewords_**


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